The Unexpected
by xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx
Summary: Blue. Light, cerulean blue. Just as the instructions said; there was no denying it now. Not to her mother, her teammates, her best mate, but mostly, not to herself. This was actually happening. The twenty-two year old, unmarried, raising Quidditch star, Ginny Weasley, was pregnant with Harry Potter's baby. The unexpected had happened. Was she ready?


**Author's Note: I check the Harry and Ginny pairing category every night and almost everything I see is a **_**What Happened in Between the Final Chapter and the Epilogue**_** and there's nothing wrong with it, I'm just personally tired of seeing them (though the ones I've read are absolutely lovely). With that being said, I came up with this little plot (no this isn't really what I see happening cannon but I couldn't help wondering what if). I'm only posting the prologue now, because I want to know whether people will be interested in it before I begin to write anything else of it. It's short and sweet and I hope you enjoy!**

**Please leave feedback (aka: a review),**

**-Kaitlyn**

* * *

"_Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been__unexpected__, unplanned by me.__"_

_-Carl Sandburg_

* * *

Prologue:

Knowing

"You okay Weasley," pondered Valmai Morgan, as she flung open her cubby and grabbed her bag. "You look a tad green."

Ginny Weasley half-shrugged, with her head in her hands, as she sat in front of her on designated cubby clutching her Quidditch bag to her chest. "Yeah, I must be catching something," she lied, before slowly raising to her feet, "It's probably nothing."

"Better be, for your sake," warned Morgan, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "Gwenog will be pissed if you get sick. Next match is against Puddlemere United and you know she takes greatest pleasure in slaughtering them."

"Don't worry," smiled Ginny, swinging the door to her cubby shut, "Griffiths won't know what hit her. She'll be wishing she never left the _right_ team."

"That's what I like to hear!" Gwenog Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, walked around the corner with an overly elated grin on her face. "Remember, girls," she slung a lazy arm around Morgan's shoulder, "we have to win this match. It might be the last I get to watch that little traitor loose."

"You're really considering retiring, aren't you?" asked Ginny, leaning against the lockets once more. A sickness brewed in her stomach, though she fought to mask it. Morgan was right; she couldn't get ill, especially not now, though she had a feeling it was something else.

"It's a shame," sighed Jones, letting go of Morgan and heading to her own locker to grab her belongings, "but I'm just not like I used to be and I love this team too much to harm it, though giving it up is probably the toughest decision of my life."

"I'll be damned," Morgan shook her head, "I never thought I'd hear you say those words aloud."

Jones shrugged, "I just want to go out before an injury forces me to." Turning back to the other two members, Jones laughed, "Now, enough with this talking and let's go celebrate our latest victory! The Falmouth Falcons never stood a chance!"

"You lot go head," smiled Ginny, "I promised Harry I'd spend time with him after the game." It was amazing how easily it was to lie to her teammates, though from the look in Morgan's eyes Ginny knew she caught it. Luckily, Jones was always too caught up in herself and Quidditch to notice much of anything else; that was just another thing that Hermione got correct.

"Ah, well, go spend time with that boyfriend of yours today, but you're coming to celebrate after our next win. That's not an option," stated Jones, leading the way from the locker rooms, "Got that?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," called Ginny, as she watched the other two vacate the place.

She was alone at last; her head was pounding, her muscles were aching, and her stomach was continuously twisting. It had hit her towards the end of the match, but luckily she was able to fight through it and battle back anything trying to force its way up her throat. She wanted to take a Potion, but couldn't until she knew leaving only one thing left for her to do.

Scanning the area a final time, she assured herself that no one was going to barge in on her— not now or in a little bit. And Harry had to stay over at work, so she didn't have to worry about him waiting for her appearance. This was it— the perfect time to see.

Her hands were shaking so much as she unzipped her bag and pulled out the box shielding the potion kit that she could barely unfold the directions to it. She read over them carefully, as she had done right after she had managed to steal the unopened package from her sister-in-law, Fleur. The result could be one of two things; the potion would remain the same color or change into a bluish one. She prayed to Merlin it was the first.

The fear and anxiety bundling within her wasn't from what Harry would say, for she already knew what it'd be, or her Mother's reaction, the women was in some sort of frenzy, or the World's explosion, after all she came quite used to it from Quidditch. No. It came from only one thought: this wasn't what she wanted in life, at least not yet. In the Quidditch World, she was still a newbie. Three years were nothing compared to most careers.

Following the procedure on the instructions, she did what little was asked of her and waited. Time seemed to slow down, and she wondered what Fleur, even Audrey, felt when they did the same. Endless fear mixed with a dab of excitement? Panic? Sheer terror, which only magnified when Ginny looked back at the potion?

Blue. Light, cerulean blue. Just as the instructions said; there was no denying it now. Not to her mother, her teammates, her best mate, but mostly, not to herself. This was actually happening. The twenty-two year old, unmarried, raising Quidditch star, Ginny Weasley, was pregnant with Harry Potter's baby. The unexpected had happened. Was she ready?


End file.
